


The Blue Rose

by Lesleytonyb



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2019-10-18 12:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesleytonyb/pseuds/Lesleytonyb
Summary: Vegeta is a high end, fashionable hairdresser with a gentle yet steady case of OCD. Goku is a messy struggling artist with questionable fashion sense and even more questionable hygiene. their lives get unintentionally thrown together in a strange mix of classes, but the guys find despite their massive differences, there's a definite spark between them.





	1. Chapter 1

The Blue Rose, Chapter one

“Voila, you look divine,” Vegeta declares, placing the hairdryer down on the counter and gesturing to the crystal mirror with the gold guilted frame, and he is right, the beautiful blue haired heiress to the biggest corporation in London does look amazing, even if she did say so herself. She expected nothing less from Vegeta to be totally honest. He has been doing her hair for 6 years now, she wouldn’t let another hairdresser within ten feet of her shiny blue locks.

“thank you darling you’re an absolute star,” She drawls, in her over the top upper-class London accent, before downing the last of her complimentary Moet champagne and handing over her platinum credit card. Vegeta rings up the £450 pounds he charges for a simple cut and blow dry on his hi teck till, Bulma Breifs has zero problems paying these kind of extravagant prices, nor does any of Vegeta’s customers. Duchesses, actresses and spoiled daddy’s girls are who make up the majority of Vegeta’s clientele. He has built up quite a list of celebrity customers over his eight years working as a hairdresser in this prestigious salon. He has become the most sought-after stylist in all of London, if not the world, being based at the Blue Rose Hotel helps of course.  
The Blue Rose is without doubt the most luxurious, beautiful and most importantly expensive hotel in the whole of London, and there are a lot of hotels in London, none of them can touch this place. It’s the height of high society, the hub of the upper classes, the go to place of anyone who desires that extra level of comfort and sophistication, provided they can afford it that is.  
The Blue Rose boasts along with Vegeta’s salon, two restaurants, a spa, a pool, a gym and a bar, not to mention the most extravagant guest rooms going. The hotel has a total of 55 rooms, people always expect there to be more based on the huge size of the sandstone building, but most of the space is taken up with, lounges, lobby’s and galleries, all for the guest’s enjoyment, which is why London’s famous and wealthy don’t mind spending £700 pound a night to stay here.

Vegeta hands Bulma back her credit card with a polite smile

“Thank you darling, you simply must pop over to the club one evening, we’d have a blast,” She speaks very fast, always in a hurry, Bulma owns the rainbow club just across the road from the hotel, along with another few establishments around the city.

“Of course, Bulma dear, that sounds perfect,” Vegeta agrees, knowing full well that he never intends to step foot in her club, he likes to keep his business and personal life very separate.  
“Marvellous, I’ll have a bottle of Dom put aside for you, on the house of course, only the best for my precious Vegeta, ha-ha” she giggles as she totters towards the black glass doors in her far too high red stilettoes.

“have a wonderful evening, miss Breifs,” Vegeta says, bowing his head

“Ciao for now darling,” are her final words before she breezes from the salon. Vegeta smiles to himself, that makes five happy customers today. He was only supposed to see four today but Bulma had called with a hair emergency and he had squeezed her in. he was supposed to finish work at nine, but it is now ten thirty-five, he feels slightly perturbed that he has put out his strict daily schedule, he will have to skip dinner, maybe pick up a sandwich on the way home. Still, anything to keep up the Blue Rose reputation, and to keep in Freiza’s good books of course. Lord Freiza owns the hotel and it’s smart to stay in his good graces, on the most part he is a kind and accommodating man, but he doesn’t suffer fools gladly, a trait Vegeta shares himself, and he will not have the Blue Rose hotels perfect reputation tarnished, he simply will not abide it, any member of staff seen to be slacking off or upsetting guests will lose their job before they can even blink.  
Vegeta sprays bleach all over the already clean chair that his clients have been sitting in that day, and rubs it vigorously with a cloth, which he throws in the trash after, he never uses the same cloth twice. He then squeezes a mountain of hand sanitizer into his palm and rubs it over his hands and arms. He checks his reflection in the mirror and smooths his already perfectly hair, washes his clean face carefully with soap and water, and brushes his immaculate suit down to be certain there is no dust or fluff on it. Only when he has checked that everything is perfect is he ready to leave, he turns off the light and locks the salon door behind him, then makes his way down the long and plush carpeted corridor of the hotel. It’s busy, its nearly always busy here. Vegeta gets halfway down the corridor and stops. He knows he locked the salon door, he always locks the salon door, but a small voice in his mind keeps saying “but what if this time you didn’t?” he tries to ignore this nagging voice but its no use. He knows he will go back to check, no point prolonging the inevitable. With a sigh he heads back and pulls on the securely locked salon door, of course its locked, in all his 8 years here he has never left the door unlocked, with a smile he turns to leave.

*

Chichi sits behind the large varnished mahogany desk that is the front reception of the Blue Rose, she is the manager, but she still likes to be on the front desk, god knows she could never trust anyone else to be the face of this place. Her hair is immaculate, despite the fact that she has been sitting at this desk for eight hours straight. Her perfect posture and plastered on smile never slip even for a second. The desk she sits at is spotless and clutter free, just how she likes it. Behind her is a glass cabinet filled with brass keys each with a room number embossed onto them. Of course, all the rooms could have been fitted with key card opening doors, like all the other posh hotels, but this is not all the other posh hotels, this is the Blue Rose. There is no high tech higgledy-piggledy stuff here, just old-fashioned English elegance. You will find no automatic doors or escalators, there are no flat screen TV’s in the lobby or the lounge, there are TV’s in the rooms of course but that’s only because they would have to charge less for each guest if there wasn’t. Lord Freiza, who owns the place is quite happy for Chichi to take a leading role and make all the decisions, provided it doesn’t lose him money, he trusts her to always make the right choices. 

She glances at the people milling about in her lobby, beautiful people, only beautiful people come here, it’s amazing how attractive money can make someone. She moves to take a sip of her freshly made caramel latte, lifting the cup almost to her lips before it is quickly snatched from her

“Sorry, I’ll make you another I promise,” Cabba, her colleague tells her with a sympathetic smile. He holds the coffee and goes scurrying from behind the desk, he is a sweet boy and Chichi has a real soft spot for him, she rolls her eyes as he rushes across the lobby with her coffee.

“Vegeta, hi, I made you a coffee,” he calls holding the beverage out to the hotels hairdresser whom he so obviously has a huge crush on.

“Oh, how sweet, thank you Cabba,” Vegeta politely accepts it with a small smile, Chichi can tell he wants to get out of here, he doesn’t sit down on one of the black leather armchairs dotted around the huge black and white tiled room, instead choosing to lean against one of the stone pillars that holds a vase of blue roses identical to the other 100 that decorate the hotel. That was another one of Chi-Chi’s ideas, what better way to make this place beautiful than flowers, and in a hotel with a name like Blue Rose, it simply had to be blue roses, unusual, unique and stunningly beautiful. Every three mornings a truck arrives with 2000 fresh blue roses, the smell is out of this world.

“I trust you had a good day, Vegeta?” Cabba asks staring at the other man in awe. It is cute really, Vegeta is a very attractive man, only a fool would say otherwise but it is perfectly clear that he is not interested in Cabba, not romantically anyway, Vegeta doesn’t seem to be interested in anyone romantically, much to a lot of people’s disappointment, but that didn’t stop Cabba from trying. Every morning and every night he would find some reason to talk to him, to make him coffee, to tell him a client had cancelled an appointment, to tell him he looked good today, to ask if he had watched last nights episode of celebrity bake off, even though he knows full well that Vegeta doesn’t watch the telly. He is persistent Chichi would give him that. 

They have a short but pleasant conversation, Vegeta is always polite, he is far too suave to be rude, he hands his half empty cup back to Cabba and leaves, thanking the doormen who open the door for him.

Cabba slumps back to his chair sitting down with a heavy sigh

“Do you think he will ever like me back?” He says feeling deflated

“I don’t know honey,” Chichi answers in a sad voice 

“Sorry about your coffee,” He looks at the half-drunk cup “Do you want it back, or do you mind if I finish it?” He asks

“Its fine hun, you finish it. I’ll go make myself another one,” She can tell he really wants to finish Vegeta’s coffee, and she certainly doesn’t want to drink it now, not that she thinks Vegeta is dirty or anything, quite the opposite he is a total clean freak, you can often see him rubbing sanitizer into his hands and though his aftershave smells very good it doesn’t always completely mask the scent of bleach that hangs around him. She stands and walks over to the state of the art coffee machine, her heels clacking on the smooth tile floor as she walks. Everyone greets her as she passes, Chichi loves working here.

*

Vegeta sucks in the cold night air, its smells fresh and crisp, it is good to smell something other than hairspray. London in December, ok so it isn’t the Bahamas, but it must be one of the most beautiful places in the world. From January through to November, London is grey and although it’s a great place to live, most of it is pretty dull, but not in December. For that one month of the year every shop and every street is smothered in twinkle lights. He makes his way down oxford street, sure he could have got a bus home, but its just not the same as walking. A bus is fast, but you don’t get the sights and the sounds, the hustle and bustle that is London, a thousand-different people speaking a hundred different languages. People with posh accents travelling home from theatres, and people with common as muck voices leaving Mr Woo’s all you can eat Chinese food. This tiny corner of the world sure is a treasure.

There is a much quicker way to get home than this, but Vegeta really enjoys the Christmas lights. He lives in a small apartment just off Sloane square, its tiny and massively expensive, but he likes it, and he can afford it, so why not, it’s good to be within walking distance to work. He turns his key in the lock and pushes the door open, he detects a slight squeak from one of the hinges, he will have to get some wd40 on that. The scent of bleach hits him in the face full force and he breathes it in, he loves that smell, that is the aroma of clean. 

He flicks the light switch to his left and reveals a short and empty corridor, there are two hooks on the wall, one on which he hangs his coat, the other his brief case. There is nothing else in the corridor, just oak wood floorboards polished to the point you can see yourself in them. 

The front room is not so different, the sparse furnishing consists of a small black leather sofa, a glass coffee table with nothing on it, a cabinet with two doors and a radio on top of it, and an ornate fireplace. There are no pictures or ornaments on the mantle piece, it is clear and very clean, not a speck of dust in sight. Vegeta likes everything minimal, not just his house either, his family life is also kept minimal, he has a brother whom he never speaks to and a father who calls him to chat once a month, but other than that Vegeta has no family. He is not one for friends either, I mean there are people who would class Vegeta as their friend, people who want to be his friend and invite him out to parties, but he always declines. He isn’t interested in other people, they annoy him. Vegeta needs everything in his life to be absolutely, flawlessly perfect, and people can never be trusted to be perfect, they do stupid things, they make a mess, they yell. That is why Vegeta can’t bear to be around people. At work of course, he is with people all day, but he can cope with that. he can cope with someone turning up in his salon looking imperfect until he gets his hands on them. When they leave his salon, they are perfection personified, and he is happy. But outside of work, when he can’t start fixing everyone’s little imperfections, that’s when it annoys him. he just can’t bare it, so he cut people from his life, a long time ago. He doesn’t need them anyway, he is happy alone.

He stretches out and turns the radio on, it starts playing a cd exactly where he left it, half way through Brahms 1st symphony. Vegeta rests his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, letting the beautiful music flow through him, relaxing his body and calming his mind in a way that only classical can. 

He can’t relax for long though, the coffee that he drank before leaving work went right through him and he pulls himself up from his chair and heads to the toilet. Yet another nearly empty room, clean to the point it is almost clinical, he spots a small smear on the mirror, perhaps a water mark or the likes. He bleaches the whole bathroom just to be on the safe side. After an hour of cleaning it’s time for bed. He goes to bed at the same time every night. His bed is made and there is not a single crease on the duvet cover. Vegeta climbs in carefully and lays very still as not to disrupt the blankets too much.

He thinks about Cabba, it really is very sweet that the guy obviously likes him, but as cute as he is he’s just not Vegeta’s type, not that he has any idea what his type is. In all honesty Vegeta can never see himself settling down with anyone, he done his sleeping around when he was in his twenties, he had a lot of short-term fleeting relationships, they never worked out. Not through any fault of the other person, oh no, the failures of Vegeta’s relationships were all Vegeta’s fault, and he knows it. He used them to get what he wanted then he left them, and he isn’t ashamed of that. now he doesn’t need anything from anyone, if he wants something he can get it himself. Besides, if he had someone else round here they would be sure to make a mess, he would rather be alone than have to clean up someone else’s mess. Clean home clean mind, isn’t that what they always say.


	2. Chapter 2

The Blue Rose, chapter two

At 6am Vegeta’s alarm slices through the silence of his darkened bedroom, he doesn’t press snooze. He never does. Every morning for the last 10 years, since he was 22, his alarm has sounded at this time, the same happy tune blaring from his small black phone. He hasn’t had the same phone for the last ten years, but an updated model of the same make. Before he upgrades he has to check that the phone works exactly the same as the one he had before. he also checks that it has the same tune as its alarm. Vegeta doesn’t adapt too change to well, his life is perfect the way that it is, why would he want to change anything? 

By 6:20 he has finished his breakfast, a slice of toast with low fat butter and a fruit smoothie, and has washed dried and put away everything he used, and is in the shower, as always. One of Vegeta’s naughtiest secrets is that he doesn’t use the shampoo he is paid to recommend to his customers. The hotel gets a commission for every bottle of honeydew hair care range that they sell, Vegeta sells at least ten bottles of the stuff a day, he charges £20 a bottle, he is making them a small fortune. He uses it for every customer, and while it is a very good range, he is kind of sick of the smell of it. So, he uses a different brand, a brand that he buys at his local marks and spencers for £4.99 a bottle, it works wonders with his hair, though he would never tell his customers that. 

After his shower he dries and dresses in a pair of black jogging bottoms, there are no designer marks on any of his clothes, they are not cheap by anyone’s standards but Vegeta doesn’t want to be a walking advertisement, so he refuses to wear anything with a logo or a name written on it. He pulls on a white t-shirt and a matching hoodie, in the bottom of his wardrobe is two neat rows of shoes, he only ever wears two of these pairs. The rest are things he has in case he ever needs them. He owns a pair of hiking boots, he has never been hiking in all his life, but you never know. He also owns a pair of flipflops, in all honesty he wouldn’t be seen dead in a pair of flipflops, but he has them just in case he ever decides for some unknown reason to go to the beach. You see, Vegeta likes to be prepared for anything, any eventuality that may, or may not occur he likes to be ready for. He can’t stand panicking or fussing or disorganisation, it makes his brain hurt. Everything must be just so.

He pulls on his trainers and triple locks the front door behind him, he doesn’t take any chances, and starts his run to work, 7 am on the dot, just as always. People greet him as he runs past them, he has become quite a celebrity around London

“Good morning Vegeta,” Business women and men all wearing immaculate suits call to him and smile, making their way to work in their offices, he smiles back politely and waves to them. The streets are quiet at this time of day, the majority of tourists, sightseers and shoppers don’t arrive till after 9 am giving Vegeta space to run.

He arrives to work at exactly 7:30, and is greeted by the two doormen who seem to be here 24/7. It wouldn’t surprise Vegeta at all if they were actually robots in disguise and didn’t need to sleep. He arrives at 7:30 every morning and leaves at 10:30 every night and he can never remember even once Tien or Raditz not being there. They seem to stand there all hours opening the door with a smile, well Raditz has a smile and a formal greeting for every guest at least. Tien on he other hand is more the strong silent type. He is polite enough, wishing everyone a good day, or good night in his flat monotonous tones but he is far from friendly. Raditz on the other hand is a chatter box, he will talk to anyone and everyone, much to Vegeta’s chagrin, he doesn’t come to work for the conversation but more often than not there is no avoiding it with Raditz.

“Good morning, Gentlemen” Vegeta nods to them both as he walks quickly through the huge glass and metal doors which they pull open for him, as soon as they do the smell of the Blue Rose greets him, one can smell the luxury before even seeing it. The place really is outstanding. He strides across the grand black and white tiled lobby, guests and staff alike all greet him happily

“Vegeta wait,” he hears, he knows it is Cabba before he even looks, bless him, he applies a fake smile to his lips and turns 

“Good morning Cabba, what can I do for you?” He asks

“Hello Vegeta, I see you’ve been running this morning, I took the liberty of bringing you a bottle of water, it’s always good to stay hydrated while you work out,” He says holding out a bottle of Evian

“Why thank you Cabba, truer words have never been spoken, I will be sure to drink it all,” he answers and waves goodbye to the younger man. 

*

Nappa has just finished using antibacterial wipes on everything in sight before Vegeta turns up, he now lays on the bench throwing the heavy weight up and down as though it were nothing when the hairdresser enters the gym at 7:35 on the dot, as he does every single day. Nappa knows it’s important to Vegeta that everything is super clean, so he makes sure it is, there are no germs on Vegeta’s bar. Though he may be small Vegeta is one of the best lifters who come to this gym, it’s nice for Nappa to have someone around with a little power behind them. Vegeta is short for a man, and he is very slim, but although most of the time they can’t be seen underneath his clothes he has very hard and prominent muscles. His body is one that a lot of people might be envious of.

“500 pounds Nappa? That is a lot of weight even for you is it not?” Vegeta says counting up the weight on the big guys bar

“Hey Vegeta,” Nappa says, carefully re-racking his outrageously heavy bar and sitting up to talk to Vegeta. of all the people who work in this hotel, Nappa was probably Vegeta’s favourite, the huge mountain of a man is nearly ten years older than Vegeta but despite the difference in age the two men have a lot in common. For example, both would rather be alone the majority of the time, they both like things clean and tidy, neither man can stomach stupidity and most important, they like to work out. 

“Nah, 500 pounds is just what I rep, my best is almost double that,” Nappa brags

“Impressive, would you be so kind as to spot me?” Vegeta asks loading up his own bar with weights. He can lift a lot, and he is proud of his strength, he may be far behind Nappa, but he is still a very strong man.

Nappa doesn’t make conversation as he stands above Vegeta during his workout, he is not there to talk, he is there to make sure Vegeta doesn’t kill himself with the bar, not that he is likely to drop the weight, but you can never be too careful. After four years of running this gym he has never had any one have an accident. In a gym this size there should be three members of staff but for some reason unknown to Nappa, no-one else that they hire stays long. People come and work here for a month at the most, then they leave. Nappa doesn’t mind, he prefers his own company anyway.

A lot of people use this gym, guests from the hotel of course but also some people who have membership, all of them trust Nappa, they know he will only dish out the best and safest advice. He knows what he is talking about when it comes to working out or lifting weights, admittedly they don’t want to talk to him about anything else, he is kind of intimidating, but that is a good thing in his books, he doesn’t want to talk to them either.

Vegeta loves working out, the burning ache in his muscles, the shaking as his nerves fight with the weight they don’t want to lift. The strain in his lungs to keep breathing even when all his instinct tell him to hold his breath. Nappa’s voice urges him on

“Up, come on three more,” He says in quiet yet assertive tones. Vegeta’s arms tremble under the pressure but he knows he can do three more. He does, and Nappa helps him to re-rack the heavy bar.

“Good job Vegeta,” He says, he would normally pat someone on the back for doing so well, but he knows Vegeta doesn’t like to be touched. He helps Vegeta with a few more exercises, mainly arms and chest, he doesn’t need to work his legs much with all the running he does. At 8 am sharp, Vegeta calls it a day and leaves the gym, his time keeping is impeccable, he runs his whole life like clockwork, for all the years Nappa has been here Vegeta has never once missed a morning’s training.

Vegeta heads to his salon, he has an hour to make himself presentable to customers. In his office, out the back of the salon he has a shower room, and though the small office is mainly empty, he does have a wardrobe. The dry-cleaning service in the hotel is second to none and Vegeta gets to use it for free, so his uniform is always kept here. The thought of carrying his suit to work in a backpack, causing all kinds of unattractive creases in the fabric is just too ghastly to think about.

He showers for the second time, and pulls a suit from the rail in the wardrobe. Inside are seven identical suits, the sharpest, pure black, Egyptian cotton suits money can buy. They are all Prada, Vegeta’s shop of preference, though there is no evidence of this anywhere, if a suit had so much as a ‘p’ engraved on one of the buttons Vegeta would not have bought it. 

He slides a crisp white shirt over the olive skin of his bulging biceps, and tucks the bottom into his 30-inch waist band and does up the buttons, slowly covering his washboard stomach and well-defined chest with the thin white fabric. His collar is stiff and starched, it needs no fixing. His jacket slides over his shoulders, the cut perfectly flattering his triangular shape. He checks, and thenj checks again, turning round in front of the mirror to make sure there is not one imperfection in his clothing, if he found so much as a thread out of place he would remove the whole suit and put on another one, today his suit passes his inspection.

Next, he fixes his jet-black hair. He never changes his hair style, this may seem a little strange considering his profession but its just the type of person he is, he found a style he liked, a spikey up do that frames his face like fire, it suits him, so he stuck with it, for fifteen years. He would never admit this out loud, but one of the main reasons he likes his hair up like this as it makes him look a little taller. Vegeta is short, 5”3 to be exact and as much as his lacking height doesn’t exactly bother him, he wouldn’t mind gaining a few inches either.

He does nothing but smooth some lotion onto his face, his flawless skin needs nothing more. His face is handsome and youthful looking, he doesn’t look his 32 years. His strong jawline and thick yet perfectly shaped eyebrows giving him a hard, masculine look, while his dark slanted eyes, upturned nose and full lips soften his features with an almost feminine allure. Vegeta is beautiful.

He opens the doors to the salon, his 9am appointment is running late, Vegeta was expecting that, his customers always run fashionably late, he schedules their late arrivals in, he books an extra 30 minutes for every single hair cut he does. Not that he does many, Vegeta sees maybe three or four clients a day, he doesn’t need nor want any more than that. his services are sought after, and attainable only to the mega rich, if he started seeing a different client every half hour it would take away from his desirableness, Vegeta is exclusive. If people wanted a hairdresser who would make their hair look amazing they could come here and get Zarbon, Vegeta’s understudy, to cut their hair, but if they wanted something extraordinary they would either have to be patient and wait on the waiting list, or be willing to pay big bucks to cut the queue. That’s just how it works.


	3. Chapter 3

Blue rose chapter 3

Dinner is exquisite tonight, the hotel has two restaurants, this one, and a bigger one downstairs called the rose, but tonight Vegeta chose the blue room, it is the calmest place in the hotel. Decorated with blue crystal chandeliers that make the light itself shine in blue sparkles splintering across the dainty room, and of course the signature blue roses that graced every surface of the place, it’s quite beautiful. Vegeta much prefers the staff in here too. The waitress, Videl is always polite and quiet, she never hovers, the two waiters at the Rose are fast and efficient but they are loud and lively, both young men, one with hair died a pretty lilac colour, the other has unruly black hair. Whilst most people find the pair endearing, Vegeta finds them annoying. There are two chefs at the Rose, a brother and sister whom you could hear bickering from the dining room, they always seemed to find something to disagree on, Vegeta finds this most unprofessional, never the less the food they produce is out of this world. The chef here, Gohan who is also Videl’s husband is so amazing, the food he serves is always bursting with flavour, it smells divine and looks like a little slice of heaven, and to top it all off, you never hear him yelling, he doesn’t seem like the type to yell, he seems nice. Tonight, Vegeta is served a Scottish scallop carpaccio for a starter, it is delicious, and a seabass fillet for his main. Vegeta never has desert, though he thinks they looks amazing he needs to consider his figure, he hasn’t eaten anything sweet for a long time. Come to think of it, he can’t actually remember the last time he enjoyed a piece of chocolate.

He has nearly finished his main course when a familiar voice calls his name and disturbs him from his yummy meal

“Vegeta, may I join you,” it calls

“Lord Freiza! Why of course you may. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” he asks in his most sincere voice. He is a little surprised to say the very least, Lord Freiza is a very good boss, he pays well and makes sure his staff are well looked after but having dinner with them is not his usual practice. He sits opposite Vegeta and orders a coffee but no food, this tells Vegeta he doesn’t plan to stay for long, thank god. Vegeta hates conversating over dinner.

“I have rather a big favour to ask of you,” Freiza says with a slight smile. Vegeta is speechless, what could the multimillionaire owner of the grandest hotel in England possibly need from him? Freiza has everything, the whole world is at his fingertips, what could Vegeta possibly do for him? he glances at Freiza’s shiny bald head, he certainly didn’t need his hair done. Maybe he has a girlfriend or something who needs their hair done, that must be it. Little is known about Freiza’s personal life, he likes to keep himself to himself, Vegeta can certainly understand that. Freiza could even have a wife or a daughter for all Vegeta knows. Yes! That must be it, he just wants to cut the queue and get his wife the best haircut she has ever had.

“Of course, lord Freiza, ask away,” Vegeta chimes placing his cutlery gently down on his plate even though he wasn’t quite finished with his food. Never mind, he can always have a slice of toast when he gets home.

“Please call me Freiza, no need for formalities, you’re not on the clock after all,” He says smiling again. Ok this is getting weird, Vegeta has a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He is pretty sure he isn’t going to like what Freiza asks of him.

“As you wish Freiza,” Vegeta replies working hard to hold the fake smile on his face and not show that he is in fact very worried.

“How would you like to take a day off?” Freiza asks,

“A day off what?” Vegeta is totally confused, he looks blankly at the other man with no idea what he can possibly be suggesting.

“Work of course, a day off work,” Freiza explains

“You mean for a whole day? I do not come to work?” Vegeta can’t hide the horrified expression from his face. Why in heaven and hell would he want to do something so silly.

“Yes, that’s what a day off is,” Freiza says feeling a little exasperated

“Erm……not really. It would take quite some arranging, and I do not really…. want to. When are we talking…? end of next year maybe?” Vegeta stutters, he doesn’t like where this conversation is going at all, not one little bit. Taking a day off work is just absurd, what possible reason could Freiza have for wanting him to not come to work?

“Err, no not next year, how would you feel about tomorrow?”

“No, no tomorrow just cannot be done!! I have clients, important clients whom have been waiting for three months to see me, I just cannot take a day off willy nilly like that, it would not be fair……”

“I’ve already taken the liberty of cancelling all of your clients for tomorrow,” Freiza cuts him off.

“You did what? with all due respect lord Freiza that is preposterous, this will cause uproar, you cannot do that!!”

“It wont cause any uproar whatsoever, anyone can be bought off at the right price,” He explains trying to calm the flustered hairdresser in front of him

“You bribed my clients?” Vegeta asks in a low voice, he doesn’t want anyone to hear of this embarrassing situation, he has never cancelled a client in all his life, he fears he will never live this down. God what if anyone else got wind of this, his reputation would be in ruins.

“Why? Why did you do this?” he asks sadly

“As I said, I need a favour, I will be sure to compensate you for any inconvenience I have caused you, but I am desperate, I need your help,” He explains making sure no one is listening. He knows a lot of people will be very curious as to why he is sitting here at the dinner table with the hotel hairdresser, but he doesn’t want anyone to hear what he is about to say.

“Go on,” Vegeta prompts, slowly coming to terms with the fact that there is nothing he can do to change it now, the customers are cancelled he may as well just do whatever it is lord Freiza asks and earn some extra money, not that he needs it but still. And once this ridiculousness was over and done with he can get back to his life and back to his routine, and most importantly back to work.

“My nephew is coming to visit me, he arrives first thing tomorrow morning and I have no idea what to do with him. I’m too busy to take him anywhere, I don’t know what to speak to him about and to be fair I don’t really like him. I need you to spend the day with him, show him around London or something?”

“What? you want me to babysit some kid? Freiza I do not have the first idea how to look after a kid, I will lose it or something, or accidentally drop it in the Thames, besides kids are messy and smelly, I do not like kids, you should probably ask somebody else, Chichi seems like she is good with kids,”

“Oh hahaha, Kakarot is not a kid, he is only a little older than you, what are you 22 now?”

“I am 32,”

“Really? you don’t look it. Well in that case he is a little younger that you. He’s 26, or roundabout that age, I forget,”

“So, what on earth does he need looking after for, surely he will not want me following him around?”

“Not so much looking after as……...befriending. I just don’t want him wondering the streets all day on his own, he comes from a country village where nothing ever happens, he can be a little simple at times and if anything were to happen to him, my sister would murder me,”. Vegeta stares at his boss for a moment looking for any hint on his face that this could be some kind of weird practical joke, he finds nothing. Just a desperate and pleading expression. Well, he can’t exactly say no, now can he? His schedule is clear, the man asking has been paying his wage for the last eight years and it would seem most rude to say no.

“Of course, lord Freiza, I am sure we will have a ball, Kakarot, you said his name is?”

“Yes, he will be staying here in the hotel for a little over three weeks, he travels back home just before Christmas, so if there’s any other time at all you can spare to spend with him it will be greatly appreciated and amply rewarded,”

“I have a lot of work on, but of course I will try my best to help you whenever I can,”

“Thank you Vegeta, your kindness will not go unnoticed. If you would be so kind as to meet him in the lobby at 10am, I’ll give him your description, so he knows how to find you, again thank you,”

“you are most welcome Freiza, as I said I am sure myself and your nephew will have a lot of fun together, good day,” Vegeta says. Freiza nods his head once before standing and shaking Vegeta’s hand, turning and leaving the small blue restaurant. His untouched coffee still on the table. Vegeta waited till his boss is out of sight before pulling a small bottle of hand sanitiser from his pocket and rubbing a large amount into his hands and wrists. Its not that he thinks lord Freiza is dirty, far from it, but he must clean his hands after he touches any other human, if he doesn’t its as though he can feel the germs that do not belong to him creeping into his skin, sinking into his pours and ruining his perfectly flawless skin, he needs to be clean.

Vegeta turned things over in his mind, is he ok with this? No, is the simple answer, he is not. Sure, the guy is probably really nice, he is Freiza’s nephew after all he is probably a really awesome man, but that doesn’t mean Vegeta wants to hang out with him for a whole day. Vegeta doesn’t want to hang out with any other human for a whole day, Vegeta doesn’t even feel comfortable hanging out with a cat all day. It is going to be awkward as hell, and god only knows where he should take this guy. He doesn’t know him at all, he has no clue what he is into or how to keep him entertained. What do normal 26 year olds do all day? Go to work he imagines but what about when they are not working? Will this Kakarot be expecting dinner? Will he want to go to a bar? Should he take him on the London eye? Vegeta has no idea. How can he be prepared if he has no idea what he will be doing? Being unprepared is like a form of torture to Vegeta. he can feel a panic rising in the pit of his stomach.

His every moment of every day is so carefully planned out, he feels he may lose his mind not knowing a single thing about his actions the following day. He can’t do it, he simply can’t go blindly out into the world with an unknown man with no shred of a plan. There is only one thing for it, he needs a plan, he needs a plan so fool proof that no matter what happens there is a backup. By the time Vegeta was finished it wouldn’t matter who turned up, what he likes or what the weather is like. Vegeta will make sure he is ready for anything this Kakarot could throw at him. Vegetarian? No worries here is a list of the best vegetarian restaurants written down in my phone. Thrill seeker? Well here is London’s steepest slide. Quiet guy? No worries st James park is usually empty this time of year. Whatever happened, Vegeta would be ready for it. He wouldn’t let lord Freiza down.  
He left the hotel at his regular time, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he might be up a little later than usual tonight. He had some serious googling to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Blue rose chapter 4 

It’s 9am and Vegeta is freaking out. This morning he followed his regular routine, there seemed little point in putting his whole day out just because he wasn’t going to work. But now he has finished his workout, he is dressed and ready for the day and its time to open the salon, but he isn’t doing that. instead he is just standing in the corridor outside the salon, wondering what to do with himself for the next 45 minuits. He can’t go into the lobby already, Cabba might speak to him, he can’t go into the restaurant, he has already had breakfast, but he can’t just stand here, like some kind of moron. What do other people do with their spare time? His heart beats wildly in his chest, but his exterior appears calm and steady. No one would know that this change to his beloved routine has caused his mind so much turmoil. 

He decides to go up to the roof terrace, there are some beautiful views across London, you can see everything from up there. The dome of st Pauls cathedral, the London eye of course, the shard. It’s quite a sight, hopefully that will clear his mind and calm his nerves. There is also a bar up there, he will get a coffee. He doesn’t drink a lot of coffee, mostly he is more of a water kind of guy, but he must admit, this hotel has good coffee, the frothy coffee’s that Cabba gives him are quite delicious.

There are not many people up here at this time of the morning, so he doesn’t have to queue for his coffee, he walks straight to the bar

“Vegeta! good morning, it’s unusual to see you out of the salon at this hour,” one of the barmen remarks, Cell has been here a long time, no one knows much about him, or the other barman up here at the terrace. These two are nearly the most mysterious people who work in the hotel, making them nearly the most talked about. Vegeta has heard all sorts of rumours about Hit and Cell from the terrace. Ranging from they both used to be murderers but lord Freiza gave them a chance once they got out of jail, to they are both working here illegally that’s why they are hidden up on the terrace all day.  
Vegeta couldn’t care less if it is true or not, he is pretty sure it is all lies, Chichi does all the hiring and firing round here and she has very strict requirements on who she will take on. She doesn’t like to hire people who have a family, working at the Blue Rose is very time consuming. You must be the best at what you do, she doesn’t want anyone lowering the tone, and most importantly, more of a necessity than anything else, you MUST be beautiful. Now Chichi isn’t looking for just conventional beauty, although she likes that too, just take a look at Yamcha the lifeguard at the pool, you can’t get more textbook perfect than that guy, but Chichi is also looking for unique beauty. There is a team of five cleaners here, separately some of them are not so beautiful, they could even be described as ugly, but together, oh my. They can clean 20 rooms in as many minuets, but they do it with so much style. Each task they complete is done with the skill and grace of a troupe of ballet dancers, yes, the Blue Roses cleaning force were beautiful alright  
.  
“I am not working today,” Vegeta explains simply. Both Cell and Hit look shocked, and it takes a lot to make Hit look shocked

“May I trouble you for a latte please,” Vegeta continues ignoring both of their surprised expressions

“Of course, darling, so, it’s not like you to take a day off, you are obviously not sick…….” Cell trails off waiting for Vegeta to give him some sort of explanation. As he makes the latte Cell tries to remember any gossip he has heard about Vegeta, he hears a lot of gossip, which he distributes to the people whom he knows will spread it around the most. Cell loves nothing more than to stir things up, he loves the drama, after all working in a hotel like this where most of the staff, including himself, basically live here a lot of interesting shit goes down.

Cell can’t remember hearing anything about Vegeta apart from the guy on reception has a crush on him, that’s not really very juicy now is it, oh well, there’s no reason why he can’t exaggerate just a little

“I have a few other things to do today,” Vegeta explains vaguely, he knows how much of a gossip Cell is

“Mmmhmmm, going out with your boyfriend? Cabba is it? Cute guy,” Cell smiles as he sees and look of bafflement cross Vegeta’s pretty features. He reaches out and touches the back of Vegeta’s hand

“Opps was it supposed to be a secret?” he whispers dramatically

“Err, I do not have a boyfriend, Cabba is very cute yes, but there is no relationship between us,” Vegeta explains, absent mindedly pulling a bottle of hand sanitizer from his suit pocket and rubbing a large amount into the hand that cell just touched. Taking his coffee, he struts to sit at one of the far tables, damn Cell and his silly gossip, whoever could have told him that there was something going on between Vegeta and Cabba? Why does everyone who works in this place have to be so goddamn talkative. 

Cell smiles as Vegeta angrily walks away, his work here is done, he may just spread that rumour round a little more, it’s a good one

“Why do you do that?” Hit asks from behind in his velvety smooth voice

“Gotta get my kicks somehow, honey, I’m certainly not gonna get any fun from you am I,” Cell says, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he sneers at the other man

“That’s not what you said last night,” Hit grins back

“Shhh, people will hear you, we don’t want the whole hotel gossiping about us now do we?” Cell scolds. Hit doesn’t answer he just rolls his dark blue eyes at the irony of Cells words. A customer orders a coffee and cell gets busy making it for them and chatting away, hit watches with a smile on his handsome face. The two of them have been working together for years, and Hit has always had a thing for Cell, he’s so suave and sexy, and his eyes are the sparkiest green imaginable. Hit is a man of few words, talking has never been his strong point, that’s why he has never told Cell how he feels about him. He has never looked into those breath-taking eyes and said those three little words he so wanted to say, yeah, they fuck occasionally and whilst Hit isn’t complaining he wants more, he wants to make love. One day he swears he will pluck up the courage and tell Cell of his feelings, but not today.

Vegeta sips his coffee looking out over London, it’s beautiful. He can’t deny he still fells a little agitated not being at work but if he said this wasn’t kind of relaxing he would be a liar. Good coffee, great view, the best company, himself. What more could a man ask for. In his phone he has a comprehensive list of all the best things to do, places to eat and, and stuff to see in the whole of London, he is feeling quite confident that he can show Kakarot a good time, if he can just pull himself together. 

Vegeta finishes his coffee and strolls at a leisurely pace through the gallery towards the lobby, he still has 20 minutes, but he wants to be early, he can’t bear the thought of arriving after Lord Freiza’s nephew, he has to be there waiting when he arrives.

Almost as soon as his butt touches the black leather cushion of one of the sofas in the lobby Cabba is next to him

“Vegeta! what a pleasant surprise, what brings you here at this time of day?” Cabba asks curiously, his face lit up brighter than the oxford street Christmas lights when he saw Vegeta walk into the lobby. He checks Vegeta out, not too subtlety, he is dressed the same as ever, in a suit black as midnight and a shirt white as snow, he is so hot. Cabba can hardly stop himself from throwing himself at the other mans feet and begging for his love.

“Hello Cabba, I have a day off work today, I am meeting someone here,” Vegeta explains. Cabba’s eyebrows knit together crossly. Who is Vegeta meeting? 

“Oh? It is for a business meeting?” Cabba enquires silently begging Vegeta to answer yes. He has never seen Vegeta express romantic interest in anyone before, that is one of the only things that stops Cabba getting upset about the way he just can’t get the other man to notice him. if he is meeting a boyfriend, or a girlfriend today Cabba feels his heart may explode. 

“Err, I suppose it could be described as a business meeting yes,” Vegeta agrees with a small chuckle. How could he explain this strange day even if he wanted too? “Oh, I’m just hanging out with my boss’s nephew for money,” he would sound like a lunatic.

Cabba felt his heart rate slow a little and his angry scowl fade, thank god for that.

“Can I sit with you while you wait?” Cabba asks. Vegeta can see the hopeful look on his face. He really wants to say no, sitting in the lobby with Cabba will do nothing to help the rumours that they are in a relationship, but he can hardly say no, that would be unacceptably rude.

“Sure Cabba, that sounds marvellous,” Vegeta agrees with a big fake smile.

After a long and awkward conversation that seems to take forever, Vegeta finally hears his name in a questioning tone.

“Vegeta? are you Vegeta?” He looks up and smiles, his heart drops. This is not Lord Freiza’s nephew. He takes in the scruffy appearance of the guy in front of him. he is wearing dusty Nike trainers with a hole in the side. A pair of black jogging bottoms that have seen much better days and a t-shirt that obviously used to be white but has now faded into a sort of creamy non-colour. He has a thick puffer jacket hanging over his arm. His face would be quite handsome if it wasn’t for his cracked lips and the spikey matted puff ball of hair that sits unceremoniously on the top of his head. This guy is a mess. Vegeta glances round for security, how on earth did this bum get in here?

“Can I help you?” Vegeta asks slowly, reluctant to talk to such a state

“I’m Goku,” the scum bag declares proudly

“Good for you, now if you do not mind Goku, I am actually waiting for someone,” Vegeta snides, trying to move away as quickly as possible

“Yeah, I know, you’re waiting for me, silly,” Vegeta stops walking and looks at the messy man

“I am waiting for Lord Freiza’s nephew, Kakarot, actually,” He explains curtly

“Eww dude, don’t call me that name, Kakarot’s a shit name, everyone calls me Goku, that’s my user name,”

“Your what now?” Vegeta is feeling more and more baffled by the second

“My username, ya know like the name I use online, all my friends call me Goku, only uncle Freiza calls me Kakarot, not even my mum uses that name anymore it fucking sucks, ha-ha,” He giggles nervously at the end of his sentence, scratching the back of his head.

“you are Freiza’s nephew?” Vegeta asks in a disbelieving tone.

“Yep that’s me,” He confirms with a huge grin. 

“And what name is on your birth certificate?” Vegeta asks sternly

“Err, Kakarot, I guess,” Kakarot answers

“Then that is what I shall call you. Let us go, I do not wish to sit here all day and you are over 20 minutes late. Good day Cabba,” Vegeta nods at Cabba and makes his way towards the door as quickly as possible, he really doesn’t want to be seen with this guy, he is an embarrassment. How can a man as dapper and sophisticated as Freiza have a nephew so shoddy? The front door is opened for them and Vegeta keeps his head down and avoids all eye contact as he leaves the hotel with this buffoon at his side, how humiliating

Once a safe distance from the Blue Rose Vegeta guesses he had better speak to Kakarot, they could hardly spend the whole day together in silence

“So Kakarot, your uncle tells me that you are visiting for three weeks, where are you from?” Vegeta asks, not really interested in the answer but just trying to make small talk.

“I come from Manningtree, in Essex, you won’t have heard of it, its pretty small,” he answers with a shrug

“Sounds…nice,” Vegeta hopes he sounds at least a little interested

“Yeah, it’s well nice, bit boring though. So, since my uncle has probably paid you a fuck load a money to keep me entertained, what we gonna do today?” Kakarot laughs, he doesn’t seem even a little upset that someone is being payed to hang out with him

“Erm, I am not sure Kakarot, I did not really give it much thought, I figured it best to find out what you like before making any plans,” Vegeta lies “What kind of things do you enjoy? I am sure we can think of something,” 

“yeah someone said you had awesome art galleries round here?” Kakarot asks, looking excited. Vegeta lifts his eyebrows in surprise, Kakarot didn’t hit him at the arty type in the slightest, maybe there was more than meets the eye with him

“If art is what you are looking for then you are in luck, we are within walking distance of the national gallery, the portrait gallery, the Tate modern, Tate Britain, the Saatchi, take your pick,” Vegeta says with a genuine smile.

“Cool, let’s just do the whole fucking lot, I wanna see em all?” Kakarot says excitedly, grinning from ear to ear

“Err it may take a little longer than a day to get around all of them, that is if you want more than a minute to look at each piece, which I assume you do,”

“Sure, I do, ok how bout we hit both the Tate’s today, stop for lunch then do the scratchy. Then tomorrow we can do the other two,”

“It is the Saatchi not the scratchy, and I will be back at work tomorrow,”

“Oh really?” Kakarot looks disappointed, “I thought my uncle would have paid someone for at least a week,” He says

“Maybe he will take you to the other two galleries tomorrow himself,” Vegeta says trying to move away from this awkward topic of conversation.

“so, we shall start with the Tate Britain, that is my favourite,” he says as he leads Kakarot towards Pimlico. Maybe today would be ok after all.


End file.
